


Just Make It Mean Something

by LesAmisDeLAbaisse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Les Misérables, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, anyway i hope you enjoy it, don't worry i snapped my own heart so i'm right there with you guys, i'm not joking hella major character death, i'm sorry about the heartbreak but to be fair i'm also crying so there's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesAmisDeLAbaisse/pseuds/LesAmisDeLAbaisse
Summary: “Do you remember that time when we were in Hamlet together?” R asked, his voice barley a whisper.“No, don’t you dare. You’re not—we’re—no. No no no no no.” Incoherent, the words were pouring out and Enj couldn’t stop them, remembering how much it hurt having to watch Grantaire die in his arms all of those long nights on stage, knowing the real thing would be so much worse. “You’re not dying. I don’t permit it.”





	

Enjolras didn’t know when things had gone so wrong, but suddenly there were gun shots and chaos as people scattered. He started pushing his way through the crowd towards where he knew his friends must be. Please, just don’t let any of them–

“Oh God, you’re bleeding,” Enjolras muttered, his heart racing as he spotted Grantaire lying on the ground surrounded by les amis, blood blooming from his side like flowers, watering the pavement around him.

“Someone call an ambulance,” Enjolras ordered, dropping down beside Grantaire, his hands immediately moving to the pool of blood. Maybe if they could just stop the bleeding—if they could just– “Someone help-” his voice cracking, almost pleading with them, when he realized no one was moving. “Quick…please, someone-”

“Enj,” R whispered, forcing a pained smile. “It’s ok, it’s ok. I don’t feel any pain.”

Enjolras nodded, his eyes blinking faster and faster, trying to ignore the way Grantaire’s hand had started to pick at the hem of his shirt the way it always did when he was lying. “Just focus on me,” Enjolras said, his eyes scanning R’s.

“C-can you hold my hand?” Grantaire asked, the façade finally breaking for a second as he let his voice crack. His breathing becoming more labored as Enjolras wiped the first tear from R’s face letting his left hand find the blood stained hand lying on the pavement, squeezing it, afraid of letting go.

“Do you remember that time when we were in Hamlet together?” R asked, his voice barley a whisper.

“No, don’t you dare. You’re not—we’re—no. No no no no no.” Incoherent, the words were pouring out and Enj couldn’t stop them, remembering how much it hurt having to watch Grantaire die in his arms all of those long nights on stage, knowing the real thing would be so much worse. “You’re not dying. I don’t permit it.”

“You’ll tell my story, won’t you?” Grantaire asked, furrowing his eyebrows as his hand tightening around Enjolras’s.

“Grantaire…” Enjolras began to protest again, only to be cut off.

“Just-just make it mean something, ok? Like the rise of the skeptics and the people of Paris, and all of that other junk you believe in. Use it to change something, because-because if nothing else, I believe in you,” Grantaire trailed off, his eyes tracing every inch of Enjolras’s face, scanning for a promise he could be satisfied with.

“I-I… of course,” he promised, trying to keep the tears from flooding his cheeks. Enjolras couldn’t help but notice how terrified those bright blue eyes looked, or how R looked so small—like a child afraid of the dark clinging onto a flashlight.

“You know that I believe in you, right?”

Nodding, he leaned his head down, placing a kiss on Grantaire’s forehead. “Good night sweet prince. May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest,” he murmured, and as he pulled away, he noticed the teardrops he had left in those messy black curls shinning like glass beads. Cupping Enjolras’s face, Grantaire pulled Enjolras toward him, bringing Enjolras into a kiss despite his ragged breaths.

“I love you,” Grantaire breathed, their lips still brushing against each other.

All Enjolras could do to respond was nod, finally choking out “I-I love you” between ragged breaths, sobs shaking his body as the hand he was clinging to went limp.

He must have scream. He must have cried. He must have done something, but looking back on it all Enjolras would remember was the feelings of rage and helplessness and despair. Next thing he knew, someone was pulling him away from the body, strong arms lifting him away as he thrashed in an attempt to get back to the most important person in his world.

* * *

 

The was a knock on his door, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand, rather just lying there on the couch in silence. He didn’t even look up when Combeferre entered his apartment using the spare key, flicking the lights on and guiding everything out of the darkness. Ferre gently popped himself down beside Enjolras.

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, Ferre rubbing circles into Enjolras’s back, who still hadn’t moved from his position curled up on the couch, too numb to move.

“We found something in his apartment,” Ferre began slowly. “And we’ll have to go through everything else before we decide what to do with it all, but we thought R would have wanted you to have this,” he said, producing a small black box from his pocket.

Enj froze, knowing exactly what it was. The numbness was gone, replaced with a punch in his gut, unable to breath. Tears began streaming down his face as he sat up and took the box from Ferre, taking out a gold ring. He spun it around, searching his last connection to R for something—anything—when he saw it. Inscribed on the inside of the ring in what he knew to be Grantaire’s sloppy cursive was the phrase Grantaire had told him so often: _tu sais que je crois en toi_ —you know that I believe in you.

He could feel the world spinning around him—spiraling out of control again—as Ferre pulled him into a hug. He could feel himself shaking against his friend as he tried without success to control the sobs.

“Sssshhhhh,” Ferre whispered holding Enjolras tighter, stroking his hair as Enjolras cried into his shoulder.

The next few minutes were a haze for Enj, and the next thing he knew he was sitting on the couch holding a cup of tea in one had—probably Ferre’s doing—while stringing the ring onto a plain chain with the other.

“You know, he loved you a lot,” Ferre said, sitting beside Enj and throwing an arm around his shoulder as Enjolras curled into the hug.

“I know,” Enjolras whispered, slipping the necklace over his head, his left hand still clinging a little too tightly to the ring as he took another shaky breath. “I know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please leave your tear induced screams and hatred for snapping you heart in the comments


End file.
